


What the Light Sees

by trysts



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: (it's tame), Deepthroating, Dialogue Heavy, Dirty Talk, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masks, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, honestly everything here is tame and soft so go ham lads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:16:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trysts/pseuds/trysts
Summary: Christine wants to take Erik and Raoul out to a masquerade ball. They all get a bit distracted.





	What the Light Sees

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is basically taking place in a universe where i took the characters and forced them to verbalize and work through their issues and now they're all dating thanks 
> 
> honestly i dunno if i'll catch up with kinktober but i'll do my BEST  
> also this is my first time ever writing smut so :)! :)))

“Are you...comfortable?”    
  
Erik’s question was redundant by this point because he’d asked it so many times, but Christine only smiled softly. “Yes, Erik, dear. Raoul, darling?”   
  
“Yes, Lottie?” Raoul had his back to the embracing couple and was fixing his hair in a mirror. “Ah, comfortable, yes, yes. Yes, rather fine myself, as you can see. Perfectly fine and—”   
  
“You don’t  _ sound _ very comfortable,” Christine said gently.    
  
Erik frowned. “I agree. You do know that you need to be honest, correct?” He pulled away from Christine, one hand lingering on her forearm as he walked up behind Raoul, setting his other hand on his shoulder and looking at him in the mirror. “You look dashing, so the issue isn’t there,” he mumbled. “You said you were comfortable, and I would hate it if you were lying. What could it be...?”   
  
“Erik,” Christine chided.   
  
Clearing his throat, Erik adjusted his tie and tried again. “Rather...Raoul, is something the matter?”   
  
Raoul huffed and covered his face with a splayed hand. “I suppose I am simply nervous.”   
  
“What for?” Erik asked quickly.   
  
“This...and together...and...argh!” The other hand joined the first in covering up Raoul’s expression.    
  
Erik’s expression darkened. “Together? Do you have an issue with—”   
  
“Erik!” Christine said, walking forwards and adjusting the bows on her dress. She brushed her thumb over his chin and tilted his face towards her. “Together as in  _ all _ of us. Raoul had told me he was nervous about going out with all...three of us. Not with you. You  _ know _ he enjoys spending time with you.”   
  
Raoul brought his hands down and looked up at the two, eyes embarrassed behind the mask he was wearing. “I apologize.”   
  
Erik was shaking his head before Raoul had even finished. “No. Your nerves come from this, and—you don’t often leave with a mask on.”   
  
“So in-often as to call it  _ never, _ yes, Erik.”   
  
“Hmph! There is pride to be had in a mask, if worn well. Just as there’s pride to be had in going out in public with your lovers.”   
  
Christine touched her own mask. “And it’s just a party, Raoul. We don’t have to go.”   
  
Straightening up immediately, Raoul said, “I want to! I truly want to spend time with you, the both of you. I know you have been looking forward to this masquerade party now that things have calmed down—especially you, Erik—and I wouldn’t take that away from you. My love easily overshadows my nerves.” Raoul huffed, satisfied. “Well, there! I’ve calmed myself down, see?”   
  
Christine smiled. “You get nervous about the cutest things.”    
  
“Yes,” Erik agreed drily. “A sword fight? No problem. A party? Oh, no, we must call in the militia to deal with something so dangerous.”    
  
“Sometimes people get nervous,” Raoul said, miffed. “There’s no need to be so insensitive!”   
  
“I’m far from insensitive,” Erik defended. “Merely teasing.”   
  
With a flourish, Raoul fixed his mask and cravat and stepped toe to toe with Erik. “‘Far from insensitive’? Why,  _ I _ could have told you that.”    
  
Erik immediately brought a hand to the back of Raoul’s neck, cupping it. “How clever. And ironic, coming from you.”    
  
“Don’t be quite so defensive, dear. Others would think you’re getting...self-conscious,” Raoul said leaning back into Erik’s touch. Erik brought up a hand to play with the edges of Raoul’s mask, but remained stoic behind his own, silent. Raoul swallowed and rambled more: “Yes, see? Look at you, you—you’re clearly getting quite worked up behind that—that silent, ah, uh, f-façade.”   
  
Raoul gasped as he felt something—someone—press up against his back. A low, lilting voice hummed in his ear. “You’re so cute when you think you’re in charge, my knight. Watching you grow breathless is...I would say  _ breathtaking,  _ but to be more honest, it is just...pathetically beautiful.”    
  
Torn between moving forward into Erik’s chest and leaning backwards into Christine’s arms, Raoul could only mumble incoherent nothings under his breath, feeling both too stiff and too pliant, too crowded and not close enough, too overwhelmed but not overwhelmed  _ enough. _   
  
Christine's teasing tone evolved into teasing touches, running her fingers up and down Raoul's arms, down to his bare wrists, so light as to be almost non-existent. 

Raoul's eyes fluttered closed. “Christine…” 

Suddenly, Erik's hand on the back of his neck turned into a fist pulling back his hair, yanking his head back and exposing his neck. He moved his mouth closer to Raoul's neck. “Hmph, who's this  _ Christine? _ I see only a beautiful, masked temptress teasing a whiny little…” 

“Whore,” Christine breathed into Raoul's ear. 

Raoul shuddered and immediately felt his face heat up, embarrassed by the visceral reaction he'd had to such a simple word. 

Trying to regain some composure, he took a feel breath. “Really, you strangers—you call me  _ whorish _ when you are the ones who accosted  _ me.” _

Christine's hands went to his waist, sliding teasingly under his shirt for half a second before pulling back, the warmth of her body moving away with her. 

Uncaringly, she adjusted her outfit and crossed her arms. “After you tempted us so, my knight? After your body began begging for more? Still, you have the gall to say  _ we _ are at fault.” She held out her arm towards the two men. “Come then, strange angel. We are not wanted here.” 

With the parting gift of running his fingers through Raoul's hair, Erik slowly pulled away too. Raoul could only watch, mildly disheveled, as the two stared at each other through their masks. Erik began by putting his hands on Christine's waist, and Christine wrapping hers around his neck—then letting one slide gently back around until she could trace a finger over his Adam's apple. 

Erik's breath caught. “You seem to be a tease, Madam.” 

“And you seem to be enjoying it, sir.” Christine arched her neck slightly and caught Erik's lips in a chaste kiss. She lightly tugged his hair—and Raoul could hear and see and practically _feel_ the kiss become more desperate. He suddenly felt restricted by his fancy shirt and trousers and even the mask; like he shouldn't be feeling this overpowering desire in such attire.   
  
Christine pulled back from Erik, breathy and flushed (from what Raoul could see of her face, at least). Erik blinked a few times before licking his lips and commenting, “How selfish of you, madam.”  
  
Christine leaned forward, back arched, pressing her chest to Erik’s. “How do you mean, sir?”   
  
“Acting so wanton but being so...clothed. Surely that must be a crime of some sort, to hide your minx’s body from curious eyes.”   
  
In one swift movement, Christine had reached down and had looped her thumbs through the belt loops of Erik’s dress pants. “How improper. Asking me to undress before you do so yourself?”  
  
Erik smiled. “Ladies first.”  
  
“The saying goes, _lustful men first,’_ if I’m remembering correctly.”  
  
Raoul loosened his cravat and stepped toward the pair, finally regaining some confidence. “The madam is right, sir.”  
  
Erik’s eyes gleamed. “Oh? Well, get to it, then.”  
  
“E-excuse me?” Raoul said.   
  
“ _You._ Such a lustful man, intruding upon a couple like this; wanting to _watch._ _So._ Undress for us. _Now._ ”  
  
Raoul’s hands went to the mask first, but he stopped as Christine tutted.   
  
“None of that, sir. Please—just your torso and waist.” She giggled. “Who cares about your face?”  
  
Raoul’s throat closed up; he was flustered, embarrassed, unsure, excited. But still, he did as she asked. Mirroring him, Erik began to take off his shirt, until Christine stopped him, too.   
  
“You...you, I will take care of.” She knelt down before glancing over her shoulder. “And you, come closer. Angel, help our friend here take off his shirt, won’t you?”   
  
Raoul moved closer and reflexively rested a hand on Christine’s shoulder, steadying himself as Erik’s deft fingers pulled off his cravat, jacket, and blouse; then did the same for himself while Christine made quick work of his belt.   
  
Voice low and uneven—from Christine’s touch, Raoul assumed—Erik spoke up. “It seems you really are rather lewd for wanting, not only to watch, but to _touch._ Would you like to be touched, my knight?”   
  
“Yes,” Raoul breathed, lips parted.   
  
“Yes, _what?_ ”  
  
Raoul’s eyes closed of their own accord. “Y-yes sir, yes mister, yes master, yes—”  
  
“I was looking for _yes, please._ ”  
  
Before Raoul could even work up the awareness to be flustered, his lips were covered by Erik’s. His mask was pushed askew as Erik roughly bit his bottom lip, slid his tongue over it, and pulled back a hair’s breadth only to do it again. Raoul could only open his mouth and try to keep up, taking in the sounds Erik made as Christine ran lips and tongue over his semi-exposed dick. Hearing Erik get worked up was wonderful, and for a moment, Raoul pushed forward and attempted to take Erik’s tongue into his mouth, biting down lightly, before forcing his own tongue into Erik’s mouth roughly.   
  
Immediately, Raoul was yanked back by his hair, fisted in Erik’s firm grip. He licked his lips and gently brushed Christine’s hair aside. “Christine, our boy here is getting rather _uppity_. I think it would help to put him in his place.”   
  
Raoul felt Christine’s slender fingers wrap around his wrist, tugging him down. She still had her lips wrapped around Erik’s dick, her eyes obscured from Raoul’s view by her mask. Raoul knelt beside her and watched as she worked her mouth easily around him, watched as Erik became more and more undone, his hand continually working its way through Raoul’s hair; sometimes petting, sometimes pulling, sometimes hurting.  
  
Erik’s lips let out gasps that turned to panting that turned to grunting and moaning and muttering half-formed words. Christine turned from licking and sucking to taking more and more of his dick into her mouth and Raoul could only breathe harshly, lips parted, his dick now straining against his pants from the sight of Christine and the feeling of Erik continually tugging his hair.   
  
Christine slowly moved her head back, a move that Raoul knew from experience meant she was running her tongue over the bottom of his member and pausing on the head, sucking it one last time before pulling back, breathing loudly. She turned to Raoul with a coy smile. “Did you enjoy that, darling?”  
  
“Very—very much so, yes.”   
  
She giggled. “Good.” She pulled her dress up to her thighs, and in a few seconds, she’d adjusted herself and slid off her tights and underwear down to her ankles. She pulled Raoul into a quick kiss and then brushed her thumb over his chin. “Come now, Raoul. You know your place.”  
  
“Yes, m—”  
  
“Erik, love, did I ask our boy a question?” Christine said sweetly.  
  
“No, dear,” Erik said, sounding both aroused and pleased. “And yet he spoke up.”  
  
Christine’s thumb across his chin turned to her cupping his face. She lifted up her mask with her free hand, the pushed his back, and gave Raoul a stern look. “You know your place,” she repeated.  
  
Immediately, Raoul moved behind Christine, then laid on his back and pulled her dress so as to position himself below her legs and underneath the fabric. Christine lowered herself back down, and Raoul pressed his tongue flat against her cunt, moving according to memory in the darkness and quickly tonguing her clit.   
  
His nose was pressed against her, too, so close that it was almost hard to breathe. But it was worth it when he could feel Christine’s thighs shaking, and even better when she spoke to him.   
  
“You work so well with your mouth, love.” Her body began moving above Raoul, and he could only assume that she had her hand’s around Erik’s cock or was scratching up and down his thighs. “It’s so much better when you’re not rambling. I know you like putting your mouth to use, but only _I_ know how to really use it.” She paused and let out a cut-off gasp. “You like to fool everyone into thinking you can be in charge, but you just want—you _need_ to be told what to do. Isn’t that right, Angel?”  
  
Erik’s voice was strained, but he did his best to keep it composed. “Entirely, yes. God, _God_ —ah, but I dislike how coherent you sound. Get that harlot to do his job on you— _hah, God, God!_ ”  
  
Raoul moved his tongue from Christine’s clit to her slit and licked along it twice before sticking his tongue in as deeply as he could. In the dark, concealed away from Erik and Christine and everyone else in the world by thick cloth, he lost himself in the rhythmic movements of his mouth, tonguing her and sucking her clit and sometimes just kissing it gently. The smell, the pressure, and the heat all started to go to his head, making everything else feel far away and hazy.   
  
Erik suddenly gasped loudly. “Ah, _ah,_ Ch- _Christine, you—ah!_ ”  
  
Christine began shuddering in a way that Raoul knew meant her eyes were tearing up as she took Erik too far into her mouth, gagging on it all with the intent of making Erik scream for her.   
  
Raoul wished he could watch.  
  
As it was, he redoubled his efforts and braced himself by pressing down on the back of Christine’s thighs.   
  
Raoul could practically feel Erik biting his tongue, trying not to be too loud. It was like a contest between him and Christine; one trying to stimulate the other to noise, and one not wanting to give the other the satisfaction. Raoul knew Erik would break. He always did. But for now, the silence was only broken by the sounds of Christine sucking and licking and Raoul licking and sucking.   
  
Christine stiffened up as she simultaneously clenched her thighs around Raoul’s face and took Erik so deeply Raoul could hear her throat struggling to keep the cock in her mouth.   
  
Erik screamed, and Christine came, going from stiff to stiffer to abruptly pliant above Raoul.   
  
He dazedly kissed her a few more times before she stood, exposing his eyes to the dull light in the room that was still too bright.   
  
Raoul felt Erik pick him up, setting him on his feet. He leaned forward a bit and was caught by Christine.   
  
“No masquerade ball, then?” Christine asked, her voice sounding of a smile.  
  
Raoul mumbled out something he didn’t even quite understand himself, eyes refusing to open and mouth refusing to work.  
  
Christine hummed. “Then, would you like for me to help you come as well?”  
  
Raoul shook his head. “No, no. I have much more important things to do than that.”  
  
Erik took a step forward and wrapped his arms around Raoul from behind. “Oh? Such as?”  
  
“Hug the two of you, first of all. And perhaps nap, or change into some much more comfortable clothing. I’m discovering the more I move that the more tired I get. But most importantly, I had prepared no less than ten conversation topics for this ball that we are no longer going to be attending.”  
  
“Oh,” Christine said.  
  
“And,” Raoul continued, “I wouldn’t want so many of my ideas to go to waste.”   
  
“No,” Erik said.   
  
“Yes!” Raoul said brightly. “Oh, you simply must hear all of them. First of all, did you know about this positively wonderful weather we’ve been having?”  
  
Christine burst into giggles, but Erik sighed loudly. “Insufferable. You are _insufferable._ ”  
  
Raoul grinned. “Yes, well. Perhaps. Yet you’ve not gotten rid of me yet.”  
  
“And I never will,” Erik said simply. “You are mine. Ours.”  
  
“Ours,” echoed Christine.  
  
Eyes still closed, Raoul smiled. “Yours.”


End file.
